A Mighty Fine Heist
by Veiladae
Summary: Donovan Hock's gala presents a shiny opportunity for both master thieves and petty thieves alike. About 50/50 Firefly and ME. Pre-Serenity. ME2. No slashes. Intentional short story.
1. Chapter 1- Opportunities

A/N: I do not own Firefly. That's Joss Whedon's. I have been happy to discover because it allows me to explore fresh stories in the 'verse, through reading and writing.

I do not own Mass Effect. That's Bioware's. It's a truly phenomenal game series.

Please feel free to read and review. This is my first attempt at a story of any length.

* * *

"I'd be delighted to attend, Donovan Hock." Inara said with a smile.

"Wonderful!" the man's face lit up. His wealth was evident from his attire and proper speech. "I look forward to our time together."

"Until then. Take care." the companion said.

"Certainly." Donovan responded.

His image on the console disappeared as the call ended. Inara wasted no time peering over her shoulder.

"How long have you been standing there?" Inara asked. The pleasantness in her voice completely replaced by annoyance.

"What?" Mal poked his head into her doorway. "Is that an invitation in to your shuttle?"

She glared at him for a second, then stood up and waved him inside. He sauntered in, thumbs under his suspenders and big smile on his face, evidently really pleased with himself.

"So...," the captain said. "You managed to find a decent fella out in this le-se pian of a system?"

Inara eyed him suspiciously. He was a little too smug. "Actually, yes." She answered. "And we will arrive at an opportune time. He is a well-respected businessman and famous art collector. He will be holding a social gala in a couple days' time." She moved to the couch as she spoke and began tidying up her tea service. "The only attendees will be other members of high society."

"Ah!" Mal said. "I love parties where the premise is to show other rich folks just how rich you are. Such a delight for you? Are you attending to be another display of his wealth and fortune?"

"He has asked me to come a day earlier than the party. I will be fulfilling many more… roles… than that." She stated her rebuttal with a playful grin.

"Such a pity you're the only one on this boat fitted for fancy parties." Mal responded.

"It is a good thing you have not been invited," Inara said with exaggerated arrogance. "Not really your kind of outing. Viewing art while sipping wine… I'm afraid you'd find it terribly dull. A common thief would feel completely out of place among high society in any context let alone…" Realization dawned on Inara. "Mal!" Her tone took on an air of scolding. "You will _not_ come to this party!"

Mal, leaned up against the wall with his arms folded in front of his chest, just shrugged and feigned confusion.

"Mal!" Inara repeated, as though he wasn't listening. "Donovan Hock's estate is no place for you or any of the Serenity crew. You do remember what happened last time you arrived unannounced to do your dirty work at a ball held for nobles?"

"Good ol' 'Ath'. What a sport!" Mal reminisced.

"Atherton nearly gutted you, Mal! Do be serious!" Inara was horrified to remember the time Mal nearly met his end on the wrong side of a sword. "You must promise me that you will _not_ interfere this time. Keep your business dealings to the back alleys and remote border planets where they belong."

Mal nodded, fingers crossed behind his back. "Cross my heart. We'll just drop off our cargo as scheduled."

"Thank you," Inara said. "Now if you please… I have things to do." She turned her back to him to return to her client console.

"'Course." Mal backed out. "Been a pleasure."

Mal obeyed Inara's request and left her shuttle. He had just been wandering past when he overheard the conversation.

_Donovan Hock_, he thought to himself. _THE Donovan Hock. What a shiny opportunity!_

This time his steps were purposeful. He knew who he wanted to find and where to find them.

* * *

"You want to ask Mal if we can spend shore leave on the Citadel?" Zoe asked, calmly incredulous.

"Yes! I've never been and it's just across the Serpent Nebula." Wash said.

"Just want to check my understanding." Zoe said. "You want to ask our captain to fly Serenity, a transport vessel used for smuggling goods, to the _capital_ of the Council -a place crawling with Alliance soldiers, C-sec officers, diplomats, the like- and just leisurely pass the time?"

Wash shrugged and nodded. "Yeah…"

"Honey, we've got fugies on board. We've got…"

Wash interrupted her train of thought. "I ain't suggesting we waltz in, arms linked, with those two. Nor anyone else. I'm talking about you, me, and some quality time together in a place that don't smell of manure or blow dust into places the sun don't shine."

Zoe smiled.

"A little sophistication would be a nice change." Wash continued. "Get a little culture."

"What 'culture' does the Citadel got that we're lacking?" Zoe humored him.

"Hmm." Wash thought. "They have ramen. Have you ever had ramen? I heard it's a delicacy back on Earth."

"Salty noodles?" Zoe crossed her arms. "I need more than that."

"They got motion pictures." Wash said. "Last time we caught a vid it was Blasto 2: Back in the Black. Remember how ruttin' awesome it was? Now they're up to Blasto 5 or something."

Wash put together his hands in a makeshift gun and said in hanar-speak: "This one wishes you would enkindle this!"

"That ain't culture." Zoe shook her head.

"We could always share drinks at one of the clubs while we dance." Wash suggested.

"Rather get impaired in the safety of my bunk."

"You're right." Wash finally conceded melodramatically. "I guess I'll just go alone. Pick up the latest version of Galaxy of Fantasy. Or maybe see if Sha'ira, the consort, has any openings…"

"You won't!" Zoe playfully attacked Wash from behind.

Their laughter and play-fighting turned to kissing just in time for Mal to enter the cockpit. He quickly covered his eyes. "Don't y'all have personal quarters to get busy in?"

"Those same four walls get monotonous after so many years." Wash said. "Sometimes us married folks gotta change things up a bit."

Zoe laughed and hit Wash behind the head playfully. "We're _not_, Sir. I'd never distract a man while he's working."

"Good to know we ain't all gonna crash and die on account of two married people's urges." He responded.

"You come up here for a reason, Cap'?" Wash asked. "Other than enjoy the show?"

Mal nodded. "Yes… Yes!" He remembered why again. "We need Jayne up here first though."

"On it." Wash said. He paged Jayne to the cockpit. It took a while before he arrived.

"What in the shen de ming-zi is so gorram important that I have to stop in the middle of my workout to come up here?" Jayne griped as he entered the cockpit, sweat rag dabbing his forehead.

Mal watched him enter. "Well, I'll speak my piece quick since we only got upwards of three minutes 'til the whole cockpit starts smelling like the inside of Jayne's bunk."

"What do you mean?" Jayne rung out his rag. "Is it gonna start smelling like gun oil and women up here?" He gave a devious smile and a grunt of a laugh.

Wash lifted a finger and opened his mouth to protest the sweat puddle, but Mal cut him off.

"We got work." Mal explained enthusiastically. "That's why I called you up here."

The three failed to show an ounce of excitement. Mal looked around at each of them as if he had just delivered the punch line of a joke and awaited his laughter.

"We know the plan, Sir." Zoe said, arms crossed. "Ain't sure I see why dropping off cargo in the middle of the dusty plain of a backwater moon like Odessa has got you grinning like a coyote found the chicken coop left open."

"Not that job." Mal waved it off. "That hardly passes as real work. We ain't had _real_ work in too gorram long. I'm talking 'bout another. An honest-to-God _heist_."

Jayne smiled big. "Like… An honest-to-God _payday_?"

"Y'all ever hear the name 'Donovan Hock?'" Mal said, an even bigger smile teasing his face.

"Sure have." Wash responded, seated at the helm. "Less than 5 minutes ago when you promised Inara you'd keep your captain's quarters to yourself."

"What?" That stole Mal's thunder. "Are you spying on me?"

"Of course not! Just innocently wandering by when I suddenly had to…" Wash looked around for an alibi. "Tie my shoes… For a few minutes. Long enough to hear you promise Inara you'd keep your scheming on your designated rock."

"She didn't designate rocks." Mal clarified. "She just don't want me 'interfering' with her date. Don't worry. Hock won't find _me_ on her side of the bed. She'll have her space."

"Ah," Zoe said. "So we've learned one thing about this Donovan Hock. He's a client." Then she added sarcastically, "That don't complicate things none."

"Ohh! I like the sound of that!" Jayne let out a childish laugh. "If he can afford Inara's rates, he must be stupid rich."

"This Hock got a job lined up for us?" Mal's second-in-command tried to put the pieces together.

"Ain't quite." Mal said. "I know we usually take work from folks who's willing to pay for smuggling and the like, but work's been scarce lately, or ain't paying good enough for a whole crew's rations. So, I'm taking the bull by the horns on this one. Hock _is_ the job and I'm the schemer."

Zoe eyed him. "Run that by me again."

"Ah, hell, Zoe!" Jayne spoke up. "Cap' knows what he's doin'. I'm on board."

"Thank you!" Mal said. "Some enthusiasm. See, Inara don't seem rightly informed. She thinks he's just another art-loving dandy. The kind of client she's used to. But this fella... Let's just say he ain't above cracking a few skulls if it lines his pockets and he's left quite a few bodies in his wake."

Zoe's expression spoke volumes regarding her skepticism.

"That don't sound like Inara's taste." She said. "You certain this is the same man?"

"Positive." Mal said. "Donovan Hock has quite the reputation as a smuggler and weapons dealer among the 'low-lifes' such as ourselves. Probably why Inara has only heard the 'patron of the arts' side of the man. Either way, man's got a stocked vault _full_ of priceless goods. He's throwing himself a party to brag to his rich friends about his being richer. And he's pure scum to boot. Don't you see? It's perfect! Ain't nobody gonna cry about a wangba dan losing a few valuables."

"Sounds like a dangerous sort, Mal." Wash pointed out.

"I reckon so, but that ain't nothing new." Mal shrugged.

"Don't a vault make things complicated, Sir?" Zoe asked, still skeptical. "And Inara? You _do_ remember the last time you showed up in her world unannounced, don't you?"

"Ah, I remember." Wash said, as though conjuring up a fond memory. "'Captain Tight Pants was almost skewered by the blade of a s-what? What was that word? Sword. Yes, that's it. Would've been a poetical way to go."

The three chuckled at Mal's expense.

"Wha…" Mal started. "_Almost_. Have you all forgotten that I won that duel? Besides, I've learned my lesson." Mal straightened up. "I ain't as impulsive as I used to be. I promised not to get in Inara's way and I won't. My plans don't involve her anyhow. She won't even know I came. Won't know none of us came. This stays amongst us, understand?"

Zoe and Wash eyed each other. Jayne rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation.

"I'm ready to get planetside and see some real action! Plus a little money ain't hurt nobody." Jayne stated excitedly. "Tell us the plan."

"We might as well hear it." Wash said to Zoe, rather intrigued.

Mal pulled up a seat and spoke low. "First, we gotta get to his estate without being seen…"


	2. Chapter 2- Secrets and Memories

The door to the elevator opened to the CIC. Shepard stepped out, running a hand through his short, brown hair which was still wet from his recent shower. He held a coffee mug in the other. Kelly Chambers was the first to greet him.

"Good morning, Commander!" She said, bright as sunshine.

"Morning, Chambers." Shepard said before a yawn overtook him. "Excuse me. I don't think I'll ever be half the morning person you are."

"No worries, Commander!" Kelly said smiling. "I will never be half the hero you are!"

Shepard smiled back at his peppy yeoman as he approached his private terminal. Kelly observed where he was going.

"You have no new messages, Commander." She said. "However, Kasumi would like to speak with you when you get the chance. She made it sound rather urgent. She is in the Port Observation Deck. Personally, I'm thankful she's requested you."

"Hmm… Why do you say that?" Asked Shepard.

"Well," Kelly answered. "She's a very closed-off person. I am usually able to read people very well, but she keeps her true feelings and self hidden behind a thick barrier. I mean, she's perfectly nice and willing to talk with people. She just never reveals anything meaningful about herself."

"Thanks, Kelly." Shepard said. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Anytime, Commander."

Shepard took a sip of coffee and headed back to the elevator. _That gives me something to do other than shoot the breeze with Joker or join Garrus in mining anyway. I know he hates that job, but seriously. There's only so many times a man can calibrate a gun before he's just piddling. _

The commander descended a level further. When the door to the Port Observation Deck slid open, Shepard entered to find Kasumi looking intently at a gray-scale painting. Genuine paint on genuine canvas. Not something found throughout the rest of the Normandy.

"Hey, Shep." Kasumi greeted him without looking over her shoulder. "I was hoping you'd drop by. Although, I'm surprised to see you here so early."

"I always make time for my crew," Shepard stated. He took a seat with his mug in front of the panoramic window displaying a myriad of stars.

"Course! Either that or it's one of those rare days on the Normandy where nothing more pertinent is happening than mining for Element Zero." Kasumi flashed him a smile from under her low hood.

Shepard laughed lightly. "You got me. I'm here all the same."

"Indeed you are. Seems the stars are aligning because my request is time-sensitive, so I'm glad there's time to make a side stop."

"Your 'request,'" Shepard repeated. "That's right. You boarded the Normandy because Cerberus had promised you something."

"Glad you remember, Shep." Kasumi said. "That's precisely why I called you in here this morning. The time has come for me to ask your help."

Kasumi stole a glance back over her shoulder at the painting again. Something in her demeanor changed slightly. Shepard noticed immediately. His now long time role in leadership had honed his people observation skills, which was fortunate given that he had to agree with Chamber's assessment. Even Kasumi's attire kept her true self shrouded in mystery. Her hood cast an ever-present shadow over eyes. Shepard tried to steer the conversation in a personal direction without being invasive. He genuinely wanted to get to know Kasumi as he cared about all of his crew members. Recalling the few details Kasumi had given him regarding her request at their first encounter via the advertisement screen, he remembered the name "Keiji."

"Was that a gift from your partner Keiji?" He asked, gesturing to the painting.

"Not quite. A memento, yes." Kasumi said. She smiled at the memory. "I was hired to steal that painting by an art collector. When I got there, I found that the painting was gone. Another thief had arrived there first and stolen the painting. I tracked him down and tackled him for it. That's how Keiji and I met. Obviously, we never returned the painting to our employers."

"He must have meant a lot to you." Shepard concluded with delicate tone.

"That's so obvious?" Kasumi asked. "Keiji became more to me than just a partner in crime."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Shepard offered his condolences. "I remember you saying Hock was responsible for his…" He left the word unsaid.

"Death." Kasumi finished his statement for him. She had stated it matter-of-factly. Shepard suspected that either time had truly numbed her emotions or she was just maintaining a mask in front of her commander. Chambers would have voted on the latter.

"Does this plan involve Hock, then? Are you seeking revenge for your partner?" Shepard asked.

"Nothing so simple-minded, Shep." Kasumi shook her head. "I wouldn't ask your help for something so silly." Then she added with a devious grin. "Plus, I wouldn't need your help if that's all I wanted."

Kasumi took a seat on the same couch as Shepard. Her casual posture seemed to contradict the seriousness of their conversation.

"This all has to do with a graybox. Keiji's graybox." She explained.

Shepard set aside his empty coffee mug and asked, "That type of implant is illegal, isn't it?"

"Yes, but that's not what gives this one its value. All grayboxes are designed to hold a person's memories and Keiji's did contain personal memories, but it was Keiji's secret that Donovan Hock wanted. He never told me what it was, but he had obtained information regarding the Alliance. Something he feared would result in a war if ever leaked to the public. He encrypted that secret knowledge within his personal memories."

"I see."

"This thing is bigger than me and Keiji, Shep." Kasumi said. "Hock has Keiji's graybox and has undoubtedly been trying to crack the code to access the information Keiji wanted to keep secret. Whatever it is, Hock either thinks or knows that he can benefit from revealing it."

"So, we need to steal back Keiji's graybox to prevent war?"

"Bingo." She responded, but then added sentimentally. "It may be valuable to Hock for the secret data regarding the Alliance, but it's even more valuable to me for the priceless personal memories hidden inside. Maybe I'll finally get to say good-bye."

A moment of silence passed between them. Shepard waited in case she had something to add. Feelings to express. Fears to get off her chest. Instead she just delved straight into the plan.

"So! I told you that now is an opportune time to steal back the graybox. That's because the graybox is located within the walls of Donovan Hock's vault on his personal estate, where soon he will be holding a gala for his other low-life friends. We'll attend, under assumed idents, of course. With all of the distractions of other guests, we should be able to walk right in the front door and steal it from under his nose."

"That sounds like a lot of potential for conflict." Shepard observed.

"Please!" Kasumi waved off his doubts. "Remember who you're working with. I'm a _master_ thief. This will be child's play."

"Do we have a Plan B, just in case?" He asked.

"You mean guns?" Kasumi smiled.

Shepard shrugged and smiled back.

"Don't worry. You'll be armed. Leave the details to me, Shep." Kasumi stood, pulled up her omni-tool, and started typing. "I'll send information regarding departure to your private terminal. Also, you'll need proper attire for the gala." He barely was able to see her wink under the shadow of her hood. "I'll send that up to your captain's quarters."

Shepard stood to leave. As he approached the door, he turned around to say one last thing.

"And Kasumi…"

"Yes?"

"Your need for closure on this isn't 'silly.' I would have been happy to help even if your sole purpose had been revenge. You're my crew. You can always come to me when you need help."


	3. Chapter 3- The Gala and the Heist

Inara walked down the corridor leading to the galley of Serenity. She could already hear Shepherd Book's voice and Kaylee's laughter.

"I simply had no idea how strong the coffee brewed at the monastery would be." Shepherd Book said. "I suppose they upped it a notch since it's the strongest thing we _can_ consume after our vows."

Kaylee laughed and looked into her own mug. "I'll bet it still tasted a might better than the grounds we got."

Shepherd Book smiled. "It was very authentic, no doubt, and got us through many an all night prayer vigil."

"Inara! Good morning!" Kaylee exclaimed happily when the companion rounded the corner and entered the dining area. Many crew members were already seated around the large wooden table for breakfast. "I love your dress. It's new, ain't it?"

Inara smiled at Kaylee's sweet demeanor. "Why, yes. You are very observant."

"You _do_ look ready for the day." Simon said to Inara. "Are we landing this soon? I thought we had until 11am Serenity time."

"You don't usually start your whoring 'til later at night, ain't it?" Jayne asked, mouth full of toast.

"Jayne!" Mal scolded as he entered the room. "That ain't no way to talk to a lady."

Inara glared at Jayne while she prepared a kettle for tea. "_Iam_ landing soon." she said. "I'm taking my personal shuttle to Bekenstein while you fly on to Odessa for Mal's drop-off."

"That's right." Mal said, sitting down to grab some slices of toast for himself. "This here's a win-win, seeing as how we both got work to be doin'."

"Bekenstein must be awful fancy if you're going there." Kaylee's dreamy look suggested she was imagining herself there. "Who is this new client?"

"His name is Donovan Hock." She answered. "He's a wealthy businessman and arts patron."

Shepherd's smile left his face.

Jayne grunted a laugh. "That all? You sure he ain't…"

Mal pounded his fist on the table to derail Jayne's thought. Everyone jumped. "...ain't also a renown olympic swimmer with washboard abs? Certainly! Inara only contracts with men who are _at least_ a triple threat. Rich, refined, _and_ handsome, to boot."

Mal shot a look at Jayne, who just looked down and continued stuffing his face. Inara eyed Mal suspiciously but let his behavior slide. She picked up her squealing kettle to pour her boiling water over her loose leaf chai to steep. She took a seat next to Kaylee.

"He is throwing a gala that I will be attending. I look forward to perusing his art gallery and speaking with other lovers of the arts."

"He's gonna love you!" Kaylee said. "You're so beautiful and smart and got lots of culture. I don't know nothing about art."

"But you _do_ know everything about engines." Inara squeezed her hand encouragingly.

"Yeah," Kaylee agreed. "I just need to find a rich, refined, handsome engine collector. Then I'll be set."

Inara laughed. "I'll let you know if I meet one."

Wash and Zoe entered the room, arms around each other's waists.

"Mornin', love birds!" Kaylee greeted them.

"Oh, I hope there's some grub left." Wash looked hopefully at the table.

"Make it a point to arrive on time and it won't be a concern." Mal said playfully over his coffee.

"Got here as soon as the misses would let me." Wash said, winking at his wife. He went to pinch her butt as she took a seat. She caught his hand in time, smirked back, and pushed him into his chair.

"Oh, dui shangdi de a-i! Spare us your antics." Jayne groaned.

Kaylee laughed. "Love is sweet, Jayne. Just 'cause you don't got it, don't mean others can't have it."

"Sweet," Mal agreed. "And a little nauseating."

Inara sighed amid the banter. "I guess I best be off." She stood to leave. "Everyone stay out of trouble." She glared at Mal intently.

"Wha-?" Mal said. "We got our drop and then we'll just be minding our "p's" and "q's." Doing maintenance, refueling, restocking… You won't see hide nor hair of us until you get back." He followed up the statement with a grin which went for innocence but lingered on deviousness.

Jayne laughed until Mal gave him another glare which shut him up.

"Bye, Inara!" Kaylee called out as Inara exited. "Hope you enjoy all the art! And sex!"

* * *

Conversations began again organically among the crew members. Mal listened, but not to the words being exchanged around him. He listened for Inara's shuttle to leave its docking bay. When he was certain she had departed the Serenity, he interrupted everyone's conversations with a commanding whistle. All eyes turned toward him immediately.

"Listen up." Mal said. "I wasn't wholly truthsome earlier. We got the drop-off, but then we got a second job."

"Finally!" Jayne said exasperated. "Can we finally talk about that?"

Puzzled expressions filled the room except from the four who already knew about the job: Mal, Jayne, Zoe, and Wash.

"What job?" Simon asked worriedly.

"Yeah." Kaylee said. "How come Jayne knows something we don't?"

"Yeah..." Mal conceded. "That was a mistake on my part seeing as how he can't insert his boot in his yapper long enough to keep people from getting suspicious."

"She don't know nothin', Mal." Jayne retorted.

"Let's hope not. Don't need her getting curious and meddlesome at the party." Mal said.

"_Who_ doesn't know?" Simon asked.

"_What_ can we finally talk about?" Kaylee inquired.

"_Which_ party?" Shepherd Book asked, fearing the answer.

Their questions came quicker than anyone could possibly respond to. Mal lifted a hand to silence their inquiries.

"We ain't seen real good work in a while." Mal started to explain. "When I overheard-"

"Eavesdropped." Wash corrected.

"-that Inara was accepting Donovan Hock as a client, I couldn't pass up the opportunity. You see..." Mal's enthusiasm for the heist quickly returned. "Hock ain't just a fancy art stuffs magpie, he's also-"

Mal was interrupted again, but this time by Shepherd Book.

"He's also a renowned weapons dealer and murder." Shepherd finished Mal's sentence.

The four in the know shot him inquisitive looks.

"He has quite the reputation. I'm shocked that Inara did not seem privy to that knowledge, but the man is truly two-faced and truly dangerous." Shepherd Book's expression was very stern.

"How the hell you know that, preacher?" Zoe asked.

Shepherd Book seemed unwilling to divulge that information.

"Well, don't matter anyhow." Mal spoke up again. "Preacher speaks the truth. What we got here is a low-life dirtbag with a vault full of treasures. He ain't gonna notice a few missing pieces and we ain't gonna worry 'bout taking from the rich to give to ourselves. Now, I've planned this out and the only ground team I'm asking for is Zoe and Jayne. The rest of y'all gotta stay on board Serenity and be ready to bail us out if the plan gets botched or we find ourselves in a pinch. We're gonna use the party as a diversion so we can…"

"You plan to crash _another_ of Inara's parties?" Simon asked.

"Mal!" Kaylee pleaded. "I was there last time you went to one of Inara's fancy parties. You punched a guy in the face. Almost got dead by a sword. Don't do that again! Not if preacher's right and this guy is so bad."

"Ta ma de," Mal cussed and buried his face into his hand for a moment. "Is that _all_ anybody can remember?"

"You're not likely to live that one down anytime this lifetime, Sir." Zoe mused.

"Stop interrupting the Cap' and let him explain the plan!" Jayne scolded. "I wanna hear about the payout again. Buck tons of creds, I hope!"

"That's the notion." Mal affirmed.


	4. Chapter 4- The Power of Money

Inara's shuttle landed smoothly on the landing pad before Donovan Hock's estate. He descended the stairs of the grand entrance to greet her. She cut the engines and opened the door.

"Inara!" Hock said smiling, extending his hand to help her out of the shuttle.

"Donovan." Inara reciprocated the smile. "What a pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance in person."

"Ah, the pleasure's all mine." Hock responded, looking her over. "You are even lovelier in person!" He kissed her hand. She offered him a brief curtsy.

"Please. Do come inside." Hock offered her his elbow. Inara linked arms with him and he led the way. The facade of his mansion seemed to be composed entirely of large windows, with concrete piers serving as the support structures. The occasional potted plant offered some greenery around an otherwise very modern, man-made building.

Two armed guards stood watch on either side of the double doors. They wore heavy armor with symbols Inara had never seen before- three horizontal rods within the outline of a sun. She assumed they must belong to some corporation offering security services. The guards nodded as the two entered. Inara offered a smile and nod to each. She was not unaccustomed to her clients using sentinels, bodyguards, patrol units… Any number of hired help designed to protect the wealth these men insisted upon boasting about. It was just a common peculiarity among the rich.

"I'm sure you'll find your stay here both comfortable and _inspiring_." Hock told Inara as they made their way down the corridor. He had emphasized the last word in such a way that amused Inara. She was a well-cultured woman due to her companion background. Fine arts and performing arts were among the fields she'd studied at the Guild and she had found herself to be talented at both. Hock surely knew this. Inara highly doubted from his composure and confidence that this was the first time contracting with a companion, but his smug look still insisted he had more to offer her that she'd ever experienced in an outing with a client.

They arrived at a large room which looked like a cross between an art gallery and a formal living room. The architecture of the mansion was very modern with sleek lines, right angles, and grey concrete. On either side Inara could see canvases of fine art expertly displayed. Each was illuminated by a bright light fixture and hung in modern gallery fashion. Arm chairs were dispersed into various sitting areas. Books lined certain walls, no doubt containing works of literature which were as priceless as the art on the walls. A fireplace crackled pleasantly in an alcove.

Hock eyed her, his smug grin growing. "What do you think?" He prompted.

Inara approached one of the dividing walls upon which hung various canvases.

"Picasso." She said.

"Ah, you recognize him." Hock came to her side.

"One of my favorites, actually." Inara turned to him. "Such a fascinating deconstruction of the elegance of human form into geometric shapes. He manages to display so many perspectives in one 2-dimensional plane."

"Have you any idea what it's worth?" He asked.

"I could never venture a guess." She responded. "Such work is priceless, regardless of how many credits anyone is willing to pay."

"Certainly," Hock seemed pleased with the answer. "Now you understand why I must post sentries at each entrance of the mansion and along the perimeter of the estate. This piece is go-upi compared the other priceless artifacts I have hidden in my vault."

Inara was slightly taken aback by his unabashed display of arrogance. She quickly hid her gut reaction and gave him the one he desired: Surprise. The game was on and she knew how to play it. Some of her clients approached their time together with shame and bashfulness. For those men, or women, she had to guide them through the union. Others, however, had a confidence and commanding presence that bordered on forcefulness. She was a registered companion and had worked with all kinds of clients. Hock's posturing was nothing new to her and his wealth unintimidating.

"I do understand," Inara said. "Please show me more."

* * *

"This sure is as desolate as a moon can get!" Mal shouted over the whipping wind. "I can't see nothing!"

"Maybe there ain't nothing here. No people." Jayne shouted back.

"Maybe we just can't see them past the dense dust storm." Zoe speculated. "Having to rely on the mule's instruments to navigate."

"Well," Mal shouted. "We got coordinates. Just hope there's something more than wind and dust at their intersecting."

Sure enough, in the horizon, a rectangular building began to take shape. The approach of their land speeder felt slow due to the flat terrain and dust storm which made gauging distances difficult. The navigation instruments indicated that the dilapidated building was indeed their meeting place. They parked the mule near it, but saw no other vehicles in sight.

_These are strange circumstances for an exchange_, Mal thought warily, fingering his gun.

Mal indicated that he would check out the building alone first. Jayne and Zoe hunkered down on the mule while he got on foot and headed toward the grey structure. Zoe, ever vigilant and mindful of the captain's safety, kept her hand ready to draw, just in case.

The building couldn't have been more than a 15 foot by 15 foot shack. Mal looked for windows or for any other way to peer in. He found one narrow one with a layer of silt, which he dusted off. The view wasn't great, but he was able to see that no one was inside. In fact, nothing was inside. This building certainly didn't look like it served any other purpose than providing shelter from the relentless dust storms of Odessa while shady business was conducted.

Mal returned to the group on the mule and told them the situation.

"Dongxi shi budu-i de." Mal growled. "These ain't the circumstances I expected when we accepted this job." Mal concluded. "This job came to us by a reputa... Well, semi-reputable businessman. This don't feel right."

"Could be a trap, Sir." Zoe shouted over the wind. "Maybe we should just leave this one."

"No ruttin' way!" Jayne demanded. "We came all this way. We gotta get paid."

"I ain't about to make a reputation for myself as a man who don't keep his promises." Mal shouted. "That's bad for business. 'Specially when there ain't hardly no offers anyhow." He bit his lip and cussed under his breath. "I'm going in. I ain't giving you orders to follow me, but… I'd take it as a kindness not to enter alone."

"Right behind ya, Mal." Jayne hollered after him. "'Sides. I'm ready to get out of this gorram wind."

"Got your back." Zoe agreed.

The three approached the building warily, hands near their holsters. They approached the door and opened it to reveal just what Mal had told them they'd find: nothing. The relief from the wind was a welcome change, but they found the empty room unsettling. They were accustomed to performing exchanges in open air, not confined within the walls of a tiny shack. Jayne hauled the cargo to the corner of the room that they agreed gave them the most tactical advantage, should something go awry. The trunk wasn't terribly heavy or cumbersome. The three readied themselves for anything.

The howling wind outside and lack of windows dotting the walls of the building masked the arrival of their cargo's recipients. Boots hit the dry ground and soon the door opened. Mal's heart leapt in his chest but he maintained his composure. In walked a strange alien wearing armor. His four eyes looked to be sizing up the smugglers as soon as he entered the room. He was followed shortly by a FENRIS mech and another alien comrade.

Mal quickly sized up the situation and got a sinking feeling the crew had finally gotten in over their heads. They were not used to working in Citadel space and were unaccustomed to the new technologies and evidently the strange peoples. He actively maintained his poker face and feigned a calm and collected composure.

"Humans." The alien said with disgust. "Where is our cargo?"

"Well, it's mighty fine to meet your acquaintance as well." Mal said with a tight smile. "We got it, but expect our promised payment first."

"No payment until we see the goods." His voice was deep and demanding.

"Alright." Mal said. "We're honest smugglers. We ain't trying to pull the wool over your eyes." He turned to Jayne, who looked paler than usual, and motioned him to pull the trunk forward. He stopped Jayne with his foot when he felt he'd gone far enough.

"Feel free to open it, but we won't take it kindly if you try to bolt before we receive our creds." Mal added.

"Is that a threat?" The other alien asked, closing the gap between he and Mal and glaring at him just a few inches from his face.

Mal didn't budge. "More like a friendly warning."

"Calm down, Trulik." The lead alien told his comrade as he used a code to open the trunk. The top flipped open to reveal little more than physical papers and files. He thumbed through them, eyeing Mal and his gang occasionally, as though expecting their faces to reveal some secret sabotage. "Looks good." He eventually said.

"Shiny." Mal said. "Then, we'll just be taking our creds and be on our way."

"Maybe we should forget the payment and take _you_ instead. And I keep these creds for myself." The alien Trulik grunted, back in Mal's face.

"That ain't like to happen." Mal said, standing his ground.

"Boss doesn't want any more unruly, disgusting humans under foot." The leader said. "Just take the trunk."

He continued anyway. "Maybe I shoot you down like a feral varren and leave your body for the dust storm. It wouldn't be the first time a rotten human disappeared under the dust of Odessa."

"Trulik!" The leader warned. "Grab the trunk."

"Best do as the man says." Mal glared back with an unwavering expression.

"I don't like your attitude." The alien continued at Mal. "You _humans_ are still new to the galaxy and act like _you_ should be in charge. You think…"

"Damn it, Trulik!" The lead alien scolded. "You're such a pain in the ass. Boss told us to come get the papers and leave the creds. These foolish humans have already agreed to smuggle these valuable slave papers for nearly nothing."

Mal's heart sank at the term "slave." The leader picked up the trunk and started to head toward the door. "Give that human the creds. You're going to earn triple that when we get back to the base."

The alien Trulik snarled at him and threw the bag down on the ground as he turned to leave. Jayne quickly reached for it and counted their loot.

"It looks right, Mal." Jayne said surprised.

"Check the mule." Zoe suddenly clamored out behind the aliens.

The pair and their mech had already boarded their own land rover. The mule looked untouched. Zoe still felt skeptical, so she hopped on board and fired up the engines. It hummed happily. She searched for obvious signs of tampering, but found none. She gave an exaggerated shrug to indicate all was fine. Mal and Jayne looked at each other, then joined her on the mule.

"Did that really just go off without a hitch?" Jayne asked incredulously, having to shout over the wind again. "But, what the hell are those things?"

"Batarians." Mal replied remorsefully.

"They're ugly as pack of wild dogs." Jayne shouted, looking over his shoulder at the departing land rover.

"We ain't dealt directly with them before," Zoe shouted soberly. "Known for kidnapping human colonists in the Terminus Systems. Selling drugs. The like. Usually ain't no good."

"Wangba dan!"Mal cussed and buried his face in his hand. "I can't believe we just helped another tyrant stay ahead for pocket change. I never would've taken the job if I'd've known."

"Ain't your fault, Sir." Zoe consoled matter-of-factly. "You _didn't_ know. Just trying to carve out a decent livin' for you and your crew. No shame in that."

Mal shook his head. "My sky's getting a might too crowded with foes. Problems wherever you turn. Ain't possible to make an honest living most places and maybe… Maybe there ain't no honest smuggling no more."

"Your next job's honest, Mal." Jayne shouted.

"Sure is." Mal agreed. "Ain't nobody losing in the next deal that ain't got it coming."


	5. Chapter 5- The Night Before

Inara and Donovan wound their way through his grand mansion. Every corner revealed new surprises, each more extravagant than the last. Large, picture windows offered panoramic views of a lush, wooded landscape. Flowing fountains were tucked away into alcoves and the corners of wide staircases. After it seemed there couldn't possibly be a place left unexplored, Donovan turned to Inara.

"I wish to share with you a view of my most prized possessions." Donovan said.

"I would be delighted to behold them." Inara smiled.

Donovan grinned smugly. He led her back down the stairs. It was significantly darker down below without the natural light filtering in. The entrance to the vault was heavily guarded, this time by technology instead of warm bodies. Electronic devices on either side served to confirm that whomever attempted to gain access to the vault was approved. Immediately when the two approached the entrance of the vault, an electronic voice stated, "Password required."

"Peruggia," Donovan responded.

"Voice I.D. accepted. Welcome, Mr. Hock." The voice said.

Next he moved to the left, to the other device. He lifted his hand before the DNA scanner and received the same approval. With that the red light on the circular door turned green. He approached the door, which opened when it detected his presence. It revealed a small room.

"We must take the elevator down. The vault is below ground for heightened security." Donovan explained.

Inara nodded and entered. The ride was quick. When the elevator doors opened, it revealed a truly breath-taking sight. The vault itself was incredibly large with ceilings several stories high. As with his art gallery on the first floor, the rare treasures in the vault were arranged in a museum setting. Each sculpture had a pedestal of its own and theatrical lighting. Artwork and other such pieces from many species' heritages and histories were on display. The collection was extensive.

Inara finally was as awestruck by the treasures Donovan showed her as his smugness implied she should be. She was not very familiar with other species' cultures, less than she would care to admit, but she recognized the most famous human contributions: Michelangelo's _the David_, the head of the Statue of Liberty, an ancient Egyptian sarcophagus... The list went on. Inara looked back at Donovan who instantly read her face.

"Please have a look around," He laughed. "Just don't touch anything."

"Of course." Inara said.

She let her natural curiosity lead her. From one display to another, she meandered, while Donovan offered commentary. He knew his artifacts well and thus served as an excellent docent. In addition, of course, he had a personal experience attached to each piece. She felt she was learning more about who Donovan was from his collection than from their previous conversations. Each piece could be tied to an interesting anecdote, a business ally, an interesting coincidence, and the like.

"I am not familiar with this fascinating piece." Inara said, pointing to a sculpture tucked away in the corner of the vault.

"Ah," Donovan seemed amused. "You are unfamiliar with _any_ Elcor art then?"

"I'm afraid so." She conceded.

"Don't stare at it too long." Donovan laughed. "Forta is known for making works that make the viewer go mad if looked upon too long."

Inara averted her eyes from the piece to look at Hock.

"That's why I keep it hidden away in the corner." Hock continued. "That and because I think it's a piece of yiwen bu zhi de lese."

"But it must be incredibly valuable to have found a home among your other treasures." Inara said.

"It is." Hock nodded. "It was given to me as a gift, actually. I never would have dropped the credits it would sell for to own this lese pi-an. I only keep it because it's valuable."

Inara nodded in understanding, not agreement, and thought: _What an interesting life to own priceless works because of your business connections and not even value them personally. This man has as many people in his network as pieces in his collection. I do wonder what exactly he does for a living. He had shown me everything and yet revealed nothing, it seems. _

She moved on to the next display table. She asked about a few more pieces of art before approaching a table which displayed various weapons and electronic devices.

"Hmm…" Inara approached a small, gray unit with which she was unfamiliar. "What is this?"

"It's a 'graybox.'" Donovan said with a strange smirk.

"I'm sorry. What is a graybox? Is it a weapon like the rest of these pieces?" Inara asked curiously.

Donovan laughed. "Not in the strictest sense, no. It's a little piece of technology used to store memories."

"How fascinating." Inara responded and dared to add: "Whose memories does it contain?"

Donovan's smile turned unmistakably sinister. "That man is dead now. He was no one important. You would never have heard of him."

Donovan's response spent a cold chill up Inara's back and she quickly sought to change the subject. She found another artifact to ask about, some old-fashioned weapon. Small comments he had made throughout the day, including that last one, made Inara wonder if his mysterious quality wasn't more near to hiding a secret. Inara meandered through the rest of the artifacts. She made a point to thank him for the tour before asking for fresh air. He obliged.

* * *

The view from the balcony was gorgeous. Hock's estate seemed to have been built in the middle of an otherwise virgin forest. The sound of warbling birds and active crickets filled the air. As the resident of a starship, Inara had become used to metal walls; few windows, if any, which revealed the same points of light in a black world; and the hum of engines and various units. Inara often felt that she had to reacclimate each time they visited land. On-world environments were incredibly diverse, anyway. The climate, the weather conditions, the vegetation… Serenity's crew didn't usually stay planetside long enough to get accustomed to any of it. Mal was the opposite of many. He would get stir crazy if planetside too long. Inara knew it had everything to do with his history. He felt safest out in the black, surrounded by stars not people.

Ultimately Inara felt thankful for the constant change because she always felt as though she were experiencing these things for the first time every time. Like she was constantly being reborn. She also loved the adventure and experiencing new things, new peoples, and new worlds. It was the main reason she had left Sihnon. At least, the reason she responded with when asked regarding her decision.

Inara breathed in deeply and took in the beauty of Bekenstein.

"The sun is setting." Donovan observed. "I will message the chef to prepare a special supper for two."

After a few brief strokes on his omni-tool, supper was in the works.

"I hope you enjoy veal cordon bleu." Donovan said. "I spared no expense when hiring a personal chef. You will not be disappointed."

"That sounds delicious." Inara said, realizing that she was getting hungry.

The two took their meal shortly thereafter. Servers brought each course in a timely fashion while Inara and Donovan talked. Salads, soups, an entree that looked like a piece art in-of-itself… Everything was superb. As they ate, Inara ventured a few questions about his line of work and the businessmen and friends who had given him various pieces, but he answered vaguely and steered the conversation back toward the estate and their evening. She had wished for the answers to satiate her curiosity, but didn't pry. She wouldn't have revealed much about Serenity and her crew, nor the Guild, either. Their time together wasn't focused on two individuals getting to know one another's personal life and histories. She knew that walking into this, and every, appointment.

When at last the plates from dessert were taken away by the servers, Donovan suggested they move to one of the alcoves with their wine glasses. She followed him to one with a wall lined with books, surrounding a fireplace. Across the way more canvases hung. They talked briefly about the works before Donovan turned to his hired companion and said, "I have shown you the beauty I have to offer and I know it was not lacking. I suspect you are ready to return the favor with an equally… _inspiring_ experience?"

Inara responded to his brazen appeal with an inviting smile. She knew from his personality that he would want to be the one to initiate their union, so she had waited. He took her wine glass from her hand and set it aside. Then he leaned back on the sofa and waited. She took her cue and advanced upon him as he wished.

* * *

Kasumi sat alone in the Port Observation Deck. It was well after midnight and most of the crew were asleep. She had tried to get some rest, but was unable to fall asleep. Instead, she sat upon the cot provided for her and stared at the floor, hugging her knees. The Port Observation Deck was never intended to be someone's personal quarters, but she had requested a room to herself and Shepard had gladly accommodated her. He had been a big surprise to her. She was accustomed to working alone due to the nature of her job, working more with people's possessions than the people themselves. She had preferred it that way. However, Shepard had been very inviting and she found the crew had a special relationship, like a family, despite how diverse they were in race and background and skill. Before this adventure, there had only been one person she felt comfortable working with: Keiji. In the darkness, there was usually only one person she constantly thought about. One person whose presence she ached for... One person… One ghost.

These same thoughts had been cycling through her head, not just preventing tonight's sleep, but many nights before this one, ever since… _it_ happened. The disquiet in her mind had prompted her to raid the liquor cabinet on the other side of the room a few hours earlier. It had been a convenient distraction. A nearly empty bottle occupied her right hand.

Kasumi looked around the room. She had thought to make it feel homey by bringing some of her personal belongings. However, each artifact had a memory tied to Keiji. He had been her partner, her best friend, and her lover. His death had left a void in her heart that she feared she would be never be able to fill again.

She sighed and looked down at the bottle. _There is no way to escape his memory… Nor do I want to._ She thought. A single tear rolled down her face against her will. _It doesn't matter. Soon… Soon this will all end and I will get to _experience _Keiji again… One last time, before I finally say "good-bye."_


End file.
